


Defend

by Namigati



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:37:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4406678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namigati/pseuds/Namigati
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He murmured to himself, but only Carver could hear—or at least understand—him, “I can’t…I can’t…I can’t.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defend

**Author's Note:**

> So out of context this barely makes sense, but I'm still putting it up just cos

They had been there six hours total before the elf had cornered them, luckily in a very much abandoned area. For all his hatred, Fenris still had enough loyalty to his husband’s love for Carver to not out him or Anders, and Carver was _immensely_ grateful for that. He couldn’t imagine how badly everyone in the Inquisition would react to finding out who Anders really was, and his presence at Skyhold.

The look in his brother-in-law’s eye was hauntingly familiar, the indescribable rage that clouded all thought and took precedence over every other emotion. Ten years ago that look described his every waking moment, his entire life lived as if no one cared, no one loved him, no one understood what it was like to be the one overshadowed by some seemingly unattainable greatness. He always knew there would always be someone better, but it took nearly dying and two and a half years with the Grey Wardens to understand that that was okay. Carver got better; he found a place to make him feel important, met the most relatable Commander he never thought possible, and learned—both in physical skill and in opening his mind. And when he met his brother again, he saw that Fenris had also learned, no doubt due to Garrett’s influence.

(That isn’t to say that Carver and Fenris were ever on the same level. Carver was loads angrier and hated everything for no reason, just because he _felt_ the world was against him. He understood why Fenris had reason to be filled with such malice and pain, he just didn’t care. But they were both able to let it all go and move on and were all the more happy for it.)

“What were you _thinking_ , bringing him here, Carver?” Fenris didn’t allow his gaze to stray from Anders, as if the mage would disappear if he did.

“I was thinking that he wouldn’t really do well being left unsupervised in his delicate state,” Carver retorted, in no real mood to explain why leaving Anders alone was the worst idea. Never mind the world believing him a monster, but Anders himself believing it. The self-loathing and suicidal tendencies he’d been showing since they left Kirkwall were pretty good indicators that he should not be left unwatched.

Fenris snorted. “ _His_ delicate state? How delicate can a mage who destroyed thousands of lives for the sake of ideology be?”

“Fenris,” Garrett interjected, trying to calm his husband down. “Please don’t shout, you’ll attract attention.”

Carver could feel the _I don’t want anyone to think my little brother sympathizes with a terrorist_ oozing from the words, left unsaid.

“You know, there was a lot of things I wondered ever since _The Incident_.” With his white hair long and pulled back, and the extra lines on his face, Fenris looked like he aged a lot more than just that one year.

Anders finally spoke up, and Carver could see a spark of the old fire in him. The intensity, the pain and pride, everything from the old Anders, all there in his eye, in his face. “You think about me that much did you? I’d be flattered if you were actually worth something.”

The anger that was clear on his face soon turned to the most comical disgust any of them had ever seen on Fenris, and it took Carver back to Kirkwall, to the spats between Anders and Fenris over Mage Rights and slavery and oppression. The back and forth between two equally hurt and angry and stubborn idiots who couldn’t step out of their own neat little bubble to realize that other people can feel hurt, too. Carver wanted to laugh, but he also wanted to cry. He settled on breaking up this fight before it turned ugly.

“That’s enough from the both of you. You keep this up and you’re really going to cause a scene.”

“Just tell me this: I thought you were devout Andrastian. Really bought into the Chant of Light and praying and magic not ruling over man and blah blah blah. Was it really worth starting a war and solidifying your damnation for eternity?”

Instead of another quip, another comeback, anything to spit at Fenris, Anders just hunched back down, turning himself toward Carver, who put a hand at his back. He murmured to himself, but only Carver could hear—or at least understand—him, “I can’t…I can’t…I _can’t_.”

Carver moved his hand up and down, rubbing Anders’ back. “Can’t you just leave this alone? We can’t change the past, and he’s trying his best to make up for it, little by little. He’s helping people like he did before. Healing, shelter, food, directions. Little things can make a big impact.”

“He’s right, Fenris.” Garrett put a hand on his husband’s shoulder, bringing Fenris back to lean against his chest. “There’s nothing to be done but move forward, no one can change the past.”

Fenris shrugged off Garrett’s hand, looking up with an angry desperate look. “But honestly, _would_ he? He’d do it all over again! He’s the kind of mage—no, the kind of _monster_ —who would kill as many innocent people as it takes to pretend that he’s right!”

Garrett’s face showed mild shock and hurt, but not surprise or any inkling of disagreement. He brushed his fingers through his hair a couple of times, and sighed in defeat. “Fen—”

Carver couldn’t take this anymore. “No, that’s enough, don’t even try to defend anyone, Brother. No one is right here. And Fenris may be the more correct, but he is still wrong. Anders did something unforgivable, this is true, but it’s not as black and white as ‘He blew up the Chantry, there is no good in him.’ He knows what he did was wrong and he wishes he hadn’t, we all wish he hadn’t but it won’t do anyone any good just dwelling on that. The only person he wants to kill is himself, and I’m not letting that happen. This is his punishment, as well as my selfishness.” He felt Anders grip onto the back of his shirt, and kept trying to soothingly rub the mage’s back as if it would help.

“Anders didn’t start the Templar-Mage War, Fenris. It had been a long time coming, and I know how paranoid you are that the mages are going to rise up and enslave everyone because that’s what happened in Tevinter, but we’re in Ferelden now, and Fereldans aren’t Tiventers. Didn’t you see what was happening in Kirkwall, now that you’re away from it? Templars were hurting, raping, killing mages left and right; making them Tranquil so they couldn’t fight back. Mages could either kill themselves or turn to blood magic and give themselves a fighting chance, and it was turned into ‘ _We have to come down harder on these mages because you see what happens?_ ’ No one was willing to even lift a finger to help the mages; not the Chantry, not the Grand Cleric, not the Divine. But you realize what it took for them to respond: violent action.”

Fenris had his hands clenched into fists so tight, Carver was worried he would bleed. Garrett wrapped a protective arm around him, but otherwise listened intently to what Carver was saying.

“I just… I grew up with three mages, magic never frightened me, because it isn’t the magic and power that makes people bad, it’s the bad people that use power and magic wrong. You know that—you love my brother, and you love your children, even though they’re mages. You still hate Anders, and you have every right to, but I won’t let you hurt him. Understand that much.”

Fenris let his hands go and let out a deep sigh. “I understand. Just keep him away from me and my children.” He ripped out of Garrett’s grasp and muttered something about finding the children.

Garrett stood awkwardly in front of them, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Did you need something, Garrett?” Carver wrapped both arms around Anders and rested his head on the side of Anders’.

“No, just… Um…” For all he should have been used to it, Garrett was obviously still uncomfortable with people displaying affection in front of him. Carver wanted to laugh, but it didn’t seem appropriate for the moment.

“I didn’t know you came to care about mages so much.”

“I’ve been surrounded by them since birth. You’d think I’d be able to manage some actual empathy for their plights.”

“I’m sorry about Fenris, he’s just… Well, you know. I’ll um… See you guys… Later…”

Carver rolled his eyes at his brother’s _smooth_ exit.

Despite it all, he felt a comradery with Fenris. Angry and strong warriors, constantly picked on for being broody or pissy, and being unable to help falling for stupid and goofy apostates. Carver rolled his eyes at himself and led Anders around the corridor, wandering aimlessly and hoping he had been doing the right thing.


End file.
